The Stuff of Nightmares
by Rhianwen
Summary: His own wail of grief wakes him seconds after Toki's pulse flutters and dies beneath his fingertips. They're always a few minutes too late in his dreams, a few drinks, a few joints, a few pointless arguments over the semantics of calling a friend a brother.


His own wail of grief wakes him seconds after Toki's pulse flutters and dies beneath his fingertips in a stink-ridden basement, beneath the impassive gaze of a man with a metal face.

They're always a few minutes too late in his dreams, a few drinks, a few joints, a few pointless arguments over the semantics of calling a friend a brother.

A few minutes, and they're a one-guitar band, and the horror of it makes his stomach turn and his throat tighten painfully.

Instinctively, Skwisgaar reaches across the bed for the warm, solid body of his friend, and sighs as he remembers.

Right; Toki is in his own bed tonight.

Since they recovered him from Magnus, and his release from the hospital a few weeks after that, he's spent almost every night with Skwisgaar, sometimes fucking, but mostly not, mostly just clinging together to remind them both that he's safe now.

But earlier tonight, Toki asked hesitantly if he should disappear for tonight, let Skwisgaar have at least one night's sleep this week that isn't interrupted every time he wakes up screaming.

You deserves to sleeps a night or two withouts being wokes up by some crysbaby yellings in your ear.

And although he certainly didn't feel like he deserved anything but a kick in the teeth for waiting so long to take action and nearly losing Toki (a few minutes, a few drinks, a few joints, a four-man band that none of them have wanted in years), he had to admit, he was tired, and this show of consideration was impressive from the guy who only months ago nearly ended his career over the same stupid argument they've been having for years. He had some vague idea, too, that maybe Toki needed to feel like he was taking care of him, to get his mind off of the overwhelming feelings of helplessness he'd been left with, so he had agreed.

Angry now with his own reasoning, he hurls his tear-damp pillow off of the bed.

He doesn't need sleep, he needs to make sure the little dildo is okay.

Without another thought, he grabs his robe.

He said he'd stay away for tonight, but maybe it's too soon to leave him alone. Toki has tried to declare his independence from the rest of the guys before, cope with his own shit on his own, and it's never ended well. And he, he can't shake the sensation of a weak pulse at his fingertips, and then nothing.

He'll just go to check on him.

Finding Toki still and silent does nothing to set his fears to rest. Toki turns into a fucking kickboxer in his sleep, and Skwigsaar's shins have the bruises to prove it.

Silently, he approaches the bed, stepping over a stray colouring book and what looks like a tea party with dinosaurs.

Just to make sure he's alive.

Deep, even breaths ghost over the back of his hand, his cheek when he leans closer, his lips when he turns his head, but it's not enough. Gently, he rests two fingers at the sleeping man's throat, the knot of tension in his chest easing slightly at the steady thump.

A sharp gasp against his mouth startles him, and when he pulls back, Toki is staring up at him in confusion and fear, and of course he's scared, idiot, what was he thinking, sneaking into a recent trauma victim's room in the middle of the night and waking him up by pawing at his throat, fucking dumbass?

But recognition and then warmth quickly replace fear, and he smiles and tangles one hand into long pale hair, tugging Skwisgaar back down for a sleepy kiss.

Skwisgaar's fingers seek out the steady pulse again as he climbs onto the ridiculous kid's bed Toki seems so weirdly attached to, and readily allows himself to be pulled up to lie over him by arms that are finally beginning to regain their former strength. But Skwisgaar's mind is still tangled in the last wisps of his dream, and the warmth of Toki's body, the rapid puffs of breath against his cheeks, the hands moving over his back, none of it is enough.

He kisses a path over Toki's jaw and down his throat, licking and sucking, the reassuring beat strong and speeding up beneath his tongue, but he needs it to race, needs to know beyond a doubt that Toki is alive and safe beneath him.

Before he can reconsider, he pushes the covers away impatiently, slips one hand inside soft cotton pyjama pants and grips Toki's stiffening cock.

Toki moves restlessly beneath him, hips bucking up into his hand, every breath a high, desperate sound that he can taste as much as hear. He feels the younger man reach between them and brush away the fabric of his robe, seeking to return the heated touches, but he catches his wrist and holds it still against the pillow. He can't be distracted right now, not when he can't shake the fear that if his attention is pulled from the pulse thudding beneath his tongue, Toki will disintegrate, nothing but smoke, nothing but a dream to distract him from the reality that his dreams show him each night.

Without lifting his mouth from the racing pulse, he shifts to support his weight with the arm pinning Toki 's hand, and slips his hand underneath the loose waistband again.

The incoherent babble of need rushing over his ear is its own reward, and he's only dimly aware that he's rocking just as insistently into Toki 's hip as Toki is into his fist. He's just about to change the plan a little, strip them both naked and go from there, when the body beneath him tenses, one hand clenching into a fist beneath his grip and the other tightening in the bedsheets, and warm stickiness spills over his fingers.

It helps, to rest his palm over Toki 's rapid heartbeat, brush gentle kisses over his dazed, blissed out face, and he can finally feel the last remnants of his nightmare release their hold when Toki laughs breathlessly.

"Wow, whats were you dreamings about?"

His own laugh is humourless.

"You knows, the usual. We waiteds to long to rekscues you, and we gots there just in time to sees you-"

He trails off, and the knot in his chest is back, the pulse dying beneath his fingertips, beyond saving, and a sob escapes him before he can stop it.

With a look of alarm, Toki scrambles to sit up, and pulls him close.

"I'm sorries."

He scoffs against Toki's shoulder.

"What's you sorry for? You didn'ts wake me up."

"I guess..."

"You looked like you was sleepings just fine when I came in. Should has left you alone."

"That's just because I tooks an extra sleepings pill, to makes sure," Toki shrugs, and then winces, having clearly not intended to reveal that little fact.

Skwisgaar feels a stab of alarm at the idea of the idiot taking it upon himself to up his medication without the approval of a doctor, but his expression must show only disapproval, because Toki gets that dumb, overly cheerful grin he sometimes does when he thinks he's headed for a scolding and is trying to wriggle out of it.

"I'ms actually surprised you could wakes me up at all. I guess sleepings pills are no match for you's skills."

"That amn'ts funny," he says sharply, and Toki 's shoulders slump.

"I know. Is just...when I gets nightsmares now, I always goes to you. I don'ts even thinks about it, I just do. I tries to be brave, but-"

"Don't do it again," he orders. "If you don'ts wants me, go call Abigails."

Toki looks up, ice-blue glare fixed on him.

"Abigail don'ts need me stirring up shit every time I haves a bad dream, Skwisgaar. She was there too."

He holds up a placating hand.

"Okay, then go gets one of the other guys. They don't minds."

Toki shoots him a hint of a grin.

"Well, I was goings to go ask if I coulds crash with Murderface tonight, if the pills didn'ts work."

Skwisgaar laughs.

"And you say you amn'ts brave!"

As they fall silent, Toki gets that look he got earlier when he bid him goodnight, that despondent yet resolute expression that means he's about to do it again, so Skwisgaar heads him off, shrugs out of his robe and drops it to the floor, and slides under the covers next to him.

Toki watches him, surprised and dubious.

"My bed's kinda small; we'll haves to sleep pretties close."

In response, he pulls Toki closer than the size of the bed strictly requires. Their attempt to create distance tonight ended with him waking up screaming, and Toki so desperate to avoid doing so that he drugged himself near oblivion, so he doesn't foresee the close proximity being a problem.

Maybe tomorrow, they can try again.


End file.
